When I first thought about writing this blog the first person I spoke to was my husband. I was curious to hear his thoughts and ideas. In fact, he was REALLY enthusiastic about it, he knows I enjoy writing and I‘m sure he thought it would cost much less than, say a plane ticket to America every year.
The next night at dinner he said to me ‘so listen honey I was thinking about your blog’ – really he said this in Italian which is ‘senti amore, stavo pensando del blog che vuoi fare’ and actually I should have already guessed that this was not good news because he said blog like it was a scaly skin disorder that grows on your eyeballs.
He said ‘A me, va benissimo’ – which means something like ‘it’s totally cool’ well, not really because my husband would NEVER say totally cool, so probably he meant something more like ‘Its fine by me,’
he said ‘sono felice, ma’ this means -I’m happy for you, however,
Then he said – and I’m not going to write it in Italian and translate this time because now I’m getting bored with doing it and you’ll just have to take an Italian class if you want to learn Italian.
He said ‘as long as you don’t write about me, (oops) or the kids (double oops), or whats going on in our life and oh yeah never, never, put a picture of any of the above things on your blog.
Well Hallelujah, what a relief!!!!! and here I thought he was going to tell me not to do it!!
The thing is I love my husband and I respect him immensely, so I thought long and hard about what he was saying to me.
I did what women have been doing for centuries.
I ignored him. Which sounds REALLY REALLY BAD, as my 3 yr old would say, but I did it because I thought there was like only 2 people reading my blog, my mom and my friend Emma. Then I wrote that extreme makeover bit and all of a sudden I had like 500 people click on it. (not really, but way more than 2) Probably because they were hoping to find some hokey information about buying and making over some fairytale farmhouse in Tuscany and instead they found me ranting and raving about some crappy stupid apartment that I’m supposed to be moving into in less than a month.
The thing is, a lot of people read that and I got a little nervous because it could get a bit sticky if like one of my friends husbands ran into my husband and said something like, ‘your living room looks great’ – over an espresso. Then my husband would be thinking how in the heck this person knew about what our living room is looking like, so I decided I had to tell my husband that maybe – just maybe I wrote about one of the things that I’m not supposed to. THIS WAS A VERY BAD IDEA, AND IM NOT GOING TO GO INTO DETAIL BUT NOTE I WAS FORCED TO TAKE A GIGANTIC PICTURE OF MY LIVING ROOM OFF MY EXTREME MAKEOVER POST.
My husband who I am still not speaking to, said that this is really going over the limit, and here I thought there was no longer the Taliban rule. So my dear readers, ahem mom, Em-, if my next post is about the limited amount of parking spaces there is here in Italy, or extra extra large cotolletta on sale now you’ll know who to blame!